Christy the Sparrow

A friend of mine, Christy, has been a really good example lately.

I think there is a reason for all the people in our lives. I think there are things that we learn from each other. Tiny worms that work their way into our brains or hearts and set up camp. We take it for granted from the people closest to us– or can’t see the forest for the trees.

My pal Christy’s husband is an engineer at GM. They’re good people. They live carefully. Raise their children responsibly. Their kids are the kind of kids you want to know. They’re funny and kind and creative. Christy has homeschooled them– a fact that shocks her only slightly less than the rest of us.

I see Christy maybe three times each year– at parties or gatherings at our mutual Friends Wally & Katie’s… and we have barely enough time then to catch up on the pleasantries. In the meantimes we read each other’s blogs and occasionally comment on them or our facebook pages. (Ah! Modern friendship.)

Today GM declared bankruptcy. The news stories aren’t specific enough to include the GM family I care most about– Christy, her husband, and their brood– but if they did interview her the reporter would have to note that while she is angry and anxious she is also assured. Assured that her faith is not built on stock or the financial stablility of an automotive giant. Her faith is in God. Her faith is in an unwavering belief that their lives are in His hands and that His eye is on the sparrow and the engineers and the mothers and the children.

I can’t say I’m as steadfast as she– but her example has been a strong one. So even while we hold our breath to see what the trickle down effects of GM’s bankruptcy is on Robby’s office, we’ll say a prayer of thanksgiving (and good things) for Christy.

Now Serving No. 39

I’m right up against 40 now. Up to my shoulders at least. And I’m starting to take stock… because that’s what you’re supposed to do, I guess. That and panic. I’m not where I thought I’d be in some ways– and in others I am.

1.I thought I’d have more children.

2. I’m grateful, very grateful for the one I do have.

3. I’m glad to still be married.

4. No books yet, by which I mean I thought I might have written one by now. So that’s still on the ToDoList.

5. No real vocation yet. Which disappoints me. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing (outside of motherhood and wifehood)… When I was little I thought I’d be a writer, a teacher, a script-supervisor (blame Lucy VanPelt), an ad man, a Museum curator (blame the mixed up files of Mrs. F. E. B.), a photographer, and a restaurant owner. I’m none of those things.

6. I haven’t been to all the places I really, really want to go… but I’ve been to some.

7. The long, long list of Things I’ve Read is ever shrinking in the face of the Long, Longer List of Things I Haven’t Read Yet.

8. I’m not very good at not having a disposable income. I miss having pocket money. Mad money. See a new pair of shoes and get them money. Sometimes I can be very, very good and think of the Bizarro Terri that lives in some wretched, teeming place that has nothing and yet is joyful in the very midst of that less-ness… but mostly I wish I had some green in my pocket.

9. I am better, in most ways, than when I was 10 0r 20 or 30 at some of the big stuff– more patient, more honest, more generous, more kind, more empathetic, and more aware of the power of Grace… but better is only that… better. Not perfected. Better is quantified only by the fact that I was worse before.

10. I can’t really remember what my parents were like when I was Jack’s age– so I can’t say if I’m the kind of parent I thought I would be at this stage. I hope so… but I think probably not. They were younger than me– but I still think they had their acts together. My mother was far more creative at 39 than I am now– she could sew circles around me then and now. And my Dad, at least at 39, was walking closer to God than I do. He had the discipline to read a little Bible every day and pray.

It’s not that I’m having a mid-life crisis. I don’t have any desire for a bright red car or a trophey husband. I’m just trying to figure out what it is I should be doing so I can get myself there.

Kicking Pollyanna to the curb

So today Jack is sick.

Nothing major– just a phlegmy little cough and sniffling nose. We’re surrounded by people that have had bouts of strep throat/flu/Ick… so we’re lucky to just have a day of this, I know…

But. He’s four. And fractious. And forgets to cover his mouth when he coughs. And I’m on the glum side myself today. So it’s all made for a long day.

My job has shrunk. Blame it on the economy. Blame it on the changing face of the Museum Field. Blame it on the old presidential administration or the new one. Blame it on France. It still means I’m out about four hundred dollars a month. Jack has three more months of tuition, a possible gymnastics class, and a penchant for McDonalds once in while.

As for me– and yes, I am whining, I had my eyes on a couple of things that are now out the window. And I already miss the idea of going out to eat. (Two words: Tempura Rolls. Sigh.)

It’s all made me kind of Scroogey and grumpy. At least Jack’s been especially cuddley today. That’s taken some of the sting out of the rest of the world.

Argh.

Waiting for naptime

Shhhhhh. We’re in the post-school napping zone. It’s a small window of the possibility of my small son taking a siesta.

I’ve stacked the deck by pulling a movie off of TiVo. [Three Came Home is one of my sister's and my favorite movies. It's the 1950 account of Agnes Newton Keith's harrowing ordeal of life in British Borneo during the Japanese occupation during WW2. Claudette Colbert stays crisply ironed throughout.] It’s black and white and not very interesting to my Cars loving little man.

The fact that he’s singing “(We’re going to) Jackson” to the little black dog right now is not encouraging.

Meanwhile, our adjustment to preschool is going well. Day 2 seems to be a success. When I went to pick up Jack at noon I got there just a bit early and the children were all seated on their pieces of carpet. My Jack was seated. Quietly. Who knew??? He still think his teacher, Mrs. Brown, is nice.

As for me, it felt a little less strange to be going to the office. It shouldn’t be any different then when Jack’s at my Momma’s or at Robby’s folks, I know, but it is. Besides, Fridays are a great day to work at our Museum– half the staff is always out or tied up in a meeting. I got a lot done. Plus, apparently, the not-so-best-kept-secret about Fridays at work is that there are usually breakfast brunch leftovers! Sausage!? Potatoes!? Yippeekiay!

I met a couple of coworkers near the buffet area– one asked about our upcoming trip to Ireland, “Why are you going there?” “Uh, ’cause it’s there?” Who justifies their travel?

Ahhhh. Jack’s singing “Wildwood Flower” now– that’s a good sign. He’s bringing it down. Shhhhh.

To Do: Make To Do List

What a surreal day. It disappeared under a pile of: cupcakes; an unexpected assignment for a major presskit for an upcoming exhibit due… NOW; a big pot of Irish Stew; Momma swooping in with lunch to rescue me; overnight guests in the forms of my oldest friend Melle and her little son, Trey; a too-brief conversation about death and heaven with my friend Wallis; an article to edit for a local magazine; ironing; a visit with Melle’s little brother and his wife and their daughter plus Melle, Trey, and her two girls; my sister dropping off her central registry form stating she’s not a sexual offender (Jack’s preschool requires it… we’re all so pleased that we aren’t pedophiles. Yay for us.); teaching Jack to use a plastic cookie cutter to make PlayDough ghosties; dinner out with friends; and an Obama rally at our historic, downtown movie theater that was sparsely attended and snackless… so we left early.

Funny how I didn’t get to that new book, isn’t it? I’ll add it to the list tomorrow. Right after the trip to the farmer’s market and donut shop run.

It’s the Economy, Stupid

We had some “restructuring” today where I work. Not downsizing or firings or laid-offings… but a restructuring to ease some of the financial wrinkles of the current climate.

Of course, there are still people underneath it all– people who’s lives changed drastically today; people who had to make the decisions and carry out the manifestations of those decisions; people who reacted emotionally…

Our workplace has gone through other restructurings. (And some firings, downsizings, and laid-offings.) It’s never easy. Each time I am grateful to have survived another cutback. This time it’s more complicated. The boss is my friend which for some is impossible to ignore. My friend didn’t hire me (or let anyone go today)– our boss did. There’s a difference. I can understand why that difference is too subtle for some but I’m not sure what I can do about it. Go back 10 years and say, “Hey– we can’t meet and become friends because some day in the far, far future you might become my boss…”?

The world is a small one– especially in the Museum field– it would be a very odd stance to maintain a stark and distant proximity to everyone else in the field. Still– today, especially, people are reactive. The only thing I (or any of us can do) is do the jobs we’re supposed to do as good stewards of time and resource and skills.

And blame the economy. It doesn’t have any feelings to hurt.